An Emaciated Faith
This past weekend Church at the Hub was on retreat on Bowen Island. We had an amazing time of renewal and restoration as we engaged in contemplative spiritual practices, group gatherings and discussions, spacious amounts of free time, and incredibly prepared meals together.
My favourite time was probably the early morning when we had coffee and silence on the patio followed by 20 minutes of centring prayer in a beautiful nautilus-shaped building with large windows looking into the forest. And all this before breakfast!
During my patio time I engaged in something called "Morning Pages," which is basically putting pen to paper and writing your stream of consciousness. So, for example, I would be writing about something I read in my Bible, and interrupt that thought with a comment on how deliciously strong my coffee was, followed by wherever that thought led me. Then I might return to my original thought, or go elsewhere.
It was random chaos and oh so freeing.
However, one line of thinking kept emerging in and out of the aimless wandering. I was feeling compressed and hungry for silence. I didn't notice it in the midst of my regular life, but once I pulled away to a quiet retreat, my soul started drinking in the presence of God like it had been starving for months.
That's weird, because I have daily rhythms that include time in the Word and with God, but it was almost like those things were barely sustaining my spiritual wellbeing, and I needed more. Only I never noticed it.
Why don't we notice our spiritual hunger? How does our faith become emaciated, even when we are doing things to feed it, yet we remain oblivious?
We live in a busy, noisy world. Have you noticed how the loudest advertisements are usually selling something we don't need and something that will not fulfill us? They don't want us to take a moment to think about it, so they try to catch our attention with loud voices and sell now, now, now. Products that speak for themselves don't require the same kind of advertising.
The voices of carnival hawkers are loud and attention-grabbing. The voice of God, that little candle flame of faith in our soul, is quiet, and we have a hard time hearing it when we live in a carnival. So when we leave the carnival to a quiet place, we begin to hear the Father's voice calling to us, and we realize we are very, very thirsty.
PAUSE and REFLECT: If you were truly pause and reflect - like pull away for a few hours or days of unrushed quiet - what would you notice about your spiritual appetite? Are you hungry? Are you so filled with spiritual junk food that you have neither hunger nor health?
According to Helen Colder, here are seven signs you might be hungry for God:
You feel dissatisfaction or discontent with the status quo of your spiritual life
A past encounter with God stirs longing in you
You feel spiritually weak
You have lost your passion
You are losing your appetite for other "comforts," even unhealthy ones that used to satisfy you
You are being stirred out of your comfort zone
You are turning to the Bible to encounter God
Are any of these seven things true of your life? Perhaps you are more hungry than you think.
We don't need to be away on retreat in order to hear God's voice. Getting away from noise for a few days helps, but we can also feed ourselves at home.
To do so we need to create our own quiet place - perhaps both physically (through place or time of day) and mentally (perhaps through your own Morning Pages or some other way to declutter your mind).
What can you do this week to leave the carnival behind and create your own sacred space where you might begin to satisfy your spiritual hunger and feed you emaciated faith?
Hey there! All who are thirsty,
come to the water!
Are you penniless?
Come anyway—buy and eat!
Come, buy your drinks, buy wine and milk.
Buy without money—everything’s free!
Why do you spend your money on junk food,
your hard-earned cash on cotton candy?
Listen to me, listen well: Eat only the best,
fill yourself with only the finest.
Pay attention, come close now,
listen carefully to my life-giving, life-nourishing words.
~ Isaiah 55:1-3a